Good Deeds
by Inudaughter Returns
Summary: Arnold enjoys doing good things for others. But can there be such a thing as too much altruism? When everyone is lining up for Arnold's help, does Arnold have any time left for... Arnold? This takes place after Minigolf.


**This fanfic takes place early in my fanfic series, right after Minigolf. Please see my biography for chronological order of my stories. Thanks. Mostly, it is a story to set up for another story request, which I could not get a feel for unless Mr. Green's tension appeared somewhere in the larger story to spin off as a tiny side story.**

The after school bell rung at P.S. 118. Phoebe Heyerdahl and her best friend, Helga G. Pataki both stood in the sun of the school playground, soaking up the heat of the asphalt through their feet. Come summertime, the heat radiating off the man-made rock substitute would be punishing, but for now the heat salving the soles of their feet through their sneakers was pleasant. The temperature of the air was rarely perfect- around seventy- and so both girls loitered outside with one eye turned to the crowd so they might spot any one of their mutual friends.

"So, Phoebe!" Helga inquired as she smacked a fist against the surface of her math textbook before swinging it wide in a more relaxed gesture. "Where the heck did ya go at lunchtime? I wanted to invite you to play tetherball, but I couldn't find you anywhere! Got stuck with old Arnoldo!" Helga shuffled her eyes sideways midway her complaint. Although it was agrieving for her not to have her best friend at her beck and call, it wasn't as if she hadn't been delighted to force Arnold into playing tetherball with her at Phoebe's absence. To hide her discomfort, Helga ranted on.

"You know, Arnold. The tetherball kept going over his head! Of course, I punched it so hard on purpose, but it wasn't a real challenge or anything."

"Oh, Helga!" Phoebe giggled nervously. "You know I'm no good at tetherball! Besides, I was kinda meeting up with Gerald! See?" Phoebe pled or understanding. She whipped a slim, hardcover book out of her stack of textbooks and opened the spine so that Helga might view its interior pages. Helga was faced with colorful, cartoon print. With wide and curious eyes, Helga turned a page.

"The latest Where's Haroldo book? Man!" Helga observed vocally. "It must have taken a bazillion years for the guy to draw all these little pictures. So what's this got to do with Gerald?" Helga asked. Real curiosity nibbled at the edges of her mind. Just what had her best friend been up to? Helga squinted down at the book for another moment.

"Well," Phoebe said dropping her voice into a conspiratorial whisper. "I met up with Gerald beside the gymnasium to read Where's Haroldo together! There's just nothing quite so romantic as that moment when your fingers meet over the picture of a tubby boy wearing binoculars! Our pinkies brushed!" Phoebe giggled while holding up a finger.

"Wha?" Helga gaped. "Gimme that!" With one deft snatch, Helga took the book from Phoebe to scrutinize it further. Almost like clockwork, Arnold and Gerald passed by on their trek to the schoolbus.

"Hey Arnold!" Helga called. She wagged the book she had taken from Phoebe over her head for the boys to see. "Do you wanna see my new book?!" Phoebe bit her lip in a frown as it seemed quite likely she'd never see her book again.

"Er, no thank you," Arnold said. Viewed sideways, the boy cradled one textbook under his arm. Arnold must have heard a story involving it from Gerald because after reading the cover of the book Helga was holding, he cast a nervous stare at Helga. "I have to get home to help with some chores."

"Chores, s'mores!" Helga sniffed. "Just don't wear yourself out with all that thoughtfulness, Hair-boy!" Arnold's face took on a look of mild puzzlement, but he kept silent as he walked away towards the bus. Both he and Gerald took their customary seats.

"What kind of chores are you doing?" Gerald prompted his friend when they were out of Helga's earshot. The two girls, Helga and Phoebe, had not yet entered the bus. But seats were rapidly filling around them.

"Oh, the usual things. Unclogging the vacuum of clumps of cat hair. Feeding Abner. Lining the pigeon coop. Oh, and then I have to go and help Mr. Huynh prepare for an upcoming convention."

"That guy again?" Gerald squeaked in protest as he narrowed his eyes. "What does he want this time?"

"He collects stamps," Arnold explained spiritedly. "So we were going to look up dates and values. That sort of thing."

"Sounds like a colossal waste of time," Gerald huffed. Arnold made an odd, strained cough as if he had suppressed a chuckle. A hint of a smile snuck onto the side of his cheek.

"Tell me about it! But I promised so, who knows? Maybe I'll learn something!"

"Maybe!" Gerald acknowledged Arnold's hopefulness. Soon the two friends waved farewell to one another through the bus window. For once, Gerald did not get off at Arnold's bus stop but rode straight home.

As for Arnold, he shouldered a tiny blue knapsack over his arm and pressed into this house. The usual flood of animals came streaming out as Arnold cracked open the front door. Then he wandered inside.

"'I'm home!" Arnold declared to the interior. But it was unusually quiet inside. Arnold found his Grandpa Phil polishing the family's green Packard in the garage. But, after poking his head through the door, he let the humming man be. Instead, Arnold walked upstairs to knock on Mr. Hyunh's door. There was no answer.

"Hm. Must be at work!" Arnold mused to himself.

"Yeah, he's at work! Susie, too! I'm about to go to work, myself! Late shift!" Mr. Potts agreed loudly. If Arnold guessed, he'd say those were dynamite sticks hung on the very unusual suspenders strapped across his Ernie's chest. As Arnold watched, Ernie donned a yellow construction hard hat as well. "See ya around, kid!" Ernie bid Arnold farewell with a wave. The man shorter than the boy walked down the hall and to the stairs. Arnold watched his friend for many silent moments before something dawned on him. He wouldn't have to help Mr. Hyunh sort stamps if the man wasn't here.

"Hm, Mr. Hyunh's not home. Well, I guess I'll do my homework or something," Arnold decided as all the grown-ups seemed to be busy all at once. Even his grandma seemed to be busy. She was vacuuming out one of the spare rooms to rent. Arnold made his way to his room. He was in the act of pulling the folding staircase down when Grandpa Pookie poked her head into the hall from behind one of the boarding room doors.

"Oh, Arnold!" Gertie waved cheerfully. "Just in time! Could you be a dear and go down to Mr. Green's for a moment? He's holding a rump roast at the counter. We need it for tonight's dinner!"

"Alright Grandma," Arnold answered simply. If anything, his life had always been structured by requests like these. Humbly, he took off for the neighborhood butcher shop.

"Mr. Green?" Arnold yelled into the interior of the shop as he pushed in through the door. A tiny silver bell fixed to the top of the door tingled pleasantly. The large man. Mr. Green, bent over in a surprisingly flexible position for someone so heavy. Mr. Green was shifting through the box- its contents crisp, papery, and rustling.

"Oh! Hey, Arnold!" the man remarked upon straightening up. "I was just receiving my month's supply of butcher paper and tape. Prices have gone up, boy oh boy! I tell you, it makes me worry Arnold. Sometimes I wonder how I'll ever stay in business... Unless I raise prices!" The burly man scratched beneath his butcher's cap, a sorrowed glint behind the vacant stare.

"Mr. Green, you have plenty of business," Arnold voiced with a habitual optimism. "We'll keep buying your meats, don't worry!"

"Yeah, you and your folks are great customers, Arnold. The tops! It's just that there's a new grocers that opened a few blocks away! A real megastore. And it has cheap, top cuts of meat! I don't know Arnold. I've been seeing this for years. The real pressure is on for little guys like me. Sometimes, I don't know how long I'm going to make it."

"Wow. I'm sorry to hear that," Arnold nodded with sorrow. After seeing the effect of his outburst on the boy, Mr. Green collected himself.

"Yeah, I'm sorry for unloading on you like that, Arnold." the man apologized. But Arnold smiled back.

"Don't worry about it, Mr. Green! We're friends."

"Yeah, we sure are kid!" Mr. Green smiled. "But I dunno, you really helped me out once during my campaign for councilman. So if you have any of those great, brainiac ideas of yours, kid, I'd be glad to hear 'em!"

"Well..." Arnold paused to think. He scrunched down his neck and curled his index finger under his chin. His huge eyelids scrunched slightly. Arnold wrinkled his face and nose up with concentration.

"Well, Mr. Green, you could try a new advertising campaign to get in new customers!"

"Like, 'Mr. Green's speciality meats?'" the butcher said with pride.

"Hm, how about, 'Mr. Green has years of service and knowledge!' That's what grandpa says. And everyone in the neighborhood always comes for one of your big sales!"

"Great idea kid, except, I'd need more help!" Mr. Green complained in his deep, booming voice that carried easily throughout the store. "Harold and I have enough on our plate as it is without makin' fancy posters and whatnot! But you're good at that kinda thing, aren't you Arnold? If you can make me great, big, shmancy, fancy posters for the sale, then I'm in! I'll put an ad in the newspaper for it!"

"Well, let me help you then!" Arnold volunteered. "On Saturday, maybe."

"Sure thing, kid! It's a deal! See ya Saturday! Oh and here's your rump roast! Thank your gram for me, will ya? She's good business."

Arnold collected his order and walked out the shop door with it. As the bell on the door tingled overhead, Arnold spotted Stinky Peterson. Stinky spotted, Arnold, too, and wide-eyed, the boy strode toward Arnold as fast as his long legs would allow.

"Say, Arnold!" Stinky said. He lifted a sheet of notebook paper covered with red marks high into the air. "Ya know that essay we 'all are craftin' for Mr. Simmons? Well, shoot I think I'm gonna get another D if I ken't [can't] make my second draft any better. Could you give my school paper a once over for me? I sure ain't certain how to correct it." Balancing the rump roast in one hand, Arnold took the school paper in the other to scrutinize it.

"Uh, Stinky, this is something that will take a lot of time to go over. I'd be happy to help you, though. Can you come over on Friday afternoon?"

"No, cause the paper is due tomorrow!" Arnold gave out a deep sigh.

"Fine. Then if you can spare the time now, come up to my room and we'll go over it together. Okay?"

"Sounds good to me, pal!" Stinky beamed. He trotted along beside Arnold.

Arnold opened the front door a smidgen. A snuffling pig nose poked out. Arnold swung the front door wide, expecting a torrent of animals to pour through, but instead it was merely Abner there, waggling his sproingy pigtail. Arnold stooped to pat Abner. Then he walked into the kitchen.

"Grandma? I've brought the roast you wanted," Arnold said setting the meat wrapped in butcher's paper on the table. His grandmother had been pouring cream into bowls for cats on the back porch. At Arnold's words, she straightened herself upright and walked back in through the open door.

"Why thank you, Arnold! And you've brought a friend! Who is this? Hm, don't tell me! I recognize you from the newspaper! You're the Raja of Cloeysville, aren't you? It's an honor to meet you, your excellency! Will you be staying for dinner?"

"Ah, no thank you Ma'am!" Stinky Peterson said after giving Arnold some puzzled looks. "I better hightail it home before six or my own pa will be madder than hornets that I stayed out late past my curfew! But I appreciate the honor your askin', Ma'am."

"I'm just going to help Stinky out with his homework for a few minutes," said Arnold. "We should be done before dinner time. I'll be in my room."

"Let me know if you change your mind, colonel," Grandpa Pookie chirped happily. Fallen silent, Arnold led Stinky up to his room. Arnold switched on a desk lamp. He then slapped Stinky's heavily corrected school paper onto the surface of his desk.

"Let's start with line one!" Arnold deliberated. "'We all of Hillwood require three things?'" Arnold read out loud. "This is your thesis?" Stinky nodded.

"Well, I think that crossing out the word 'all' is the best way to begin," Arnold expounded. "But the three things you're talking about? Stinky, the assignment from Mr. Simmons was to talk about components for societal happiness. I think he was looking for something… well big! I chose a sewer system, mass transit, and a vibrant arts community, for example," said Arnold ticking off his fingers. "Gerald chose employment. So maybe you should change dental floss to dentistry."

"Okey-dokey!" Stinky beamed. "Shoot Arnold! You're so gawsh darn smart! I wish I could be as keen as yourself and Gerald." Arnold fell silent again as he scribbled on Stinky's page. Then he began to read again.

Arnold was weary already when he waved Stinky goodbye from his stoop. He held one thick textbook under his arm, then strode back to his room to crack the textbook open.

"Alright!" Arnold ruffled his hair and left one half of his eye covered with the palm of his hand. "Time for my own homework." Arnold steered himself upstairs with a purposeful march that was as fluid and graceful as a cat's.

Arnold had just only shut his own textbook and laid it on the desk when the dinner bell rang. Arnold poked his head out his door to peer down into the hall. Oscar stood outside the door to the apartment where he and Susie lived. The man waved eagerly to Arnold.

"Hey, little buddy! Let's go get some chow, eh?" the man laughed before walking swiftly away from Arnold and towards the stairway that would bring him closer to dinner. Arnold heaved a sigh. Then he, too, walked down to dinner. As he might have expected, Mr. Hyunh had arrived home in time for the meal. The immigrant smiled pleasantly at Arnold and waved a dinner fork in the air above his head. Arnold pushed out a seat for himself and down down across the table from him.

"Oh! Arnold! You are home!" Mr. Hyunh said, still with a noticeable accent. "Come upstairs with me after dinner! We will sort through all my stamps with flowers! It will be fun!"

"Yeah, fun," Arnold smiled wanly back as he took up his knife and fork.

"Oooh! Pot roast today! Very exciting to have real meat!" Mr. Hyunh said with cheer. "Not balogna sandwich and cheese."

"Hey, I like bologna!" Oscar argued back. "It's a pity Susie can't be here. But if we wait any longer for her, the dinner will be cold!" Oscar said, reaching for a breadroll. But then Susie's voice carried down the hall.

"I'm here!" the woman with the rather unappealing nose said as she took off her coat and draped it on her arm. With a smile, Arnold's Grandma took the coat from Susie to hang it up for her. Susie took her place at the dinner table.

"Sorry I'm late, everyone. I had to work a double-shift today. But I'm glad I was able to make it to dinner. Gertrude, the food looks marvelous!" Susie clapped her hands together and battered her eyes with salesman's spiel. She received a contented smile in return.

"Why thank you, sparrow! Now all of you get what I slap on your plate! We don't waste rations in the Congo!" Grandma "Pookie" Gertie began her circuit round the table by slapping the best cut of meat down on her grandson's plate. Arnold sawed into it and popped a bit of hot, savory, fat-dripped meat into his mouth. Then he spooned some mashed potatoes from a bowl onto his plate.

"Oscar!" Grandpa Phil shouted down the table. He waved a fist. "Stop drinking that gravy!"

"Sorry!" the guilty party said. Oscar set down an antique, white ceramic gravy bowl with pink flowers round the rim. Then he picked it back up to offer to pass it to Arnold.

"You want some Arnold?" Oscar asked with the mere hint of guilt for having drunk from the gravy bowl.

"Er, no thanks!" Arnold said. He sawed into his thick slab of roast for another piece. "I don't need gravy for my potatoes."

"See! I was just eating his share for him!" Oscar foolishly said. Arnold's grandpa Phil and Oscar launched themselves into a quarrel again, but Arnold paid no mind to it. He bolted down his food, then wiped his chin with a table napkin. He waited until Mr. Hyunh was finished eating his own dinner.

"Ooooh, this way Arnold!" the boarder said with a wide grin. "I have many flower stamps! One with a hibiscus! One with a violet! Oh, and one with a hydrangea! It is very pretty!"

"Sounds like it," Arnold said as he followed his friend to his apartment. Soon he hunkered over Mr. Hyunh's scrapbooks. Arnold turned the pages in his hand as Mr. Hyunh sorted through loose stamps that we as yet unbound in any scrapbook.

After some time, Arnold waved goodbye to Mr. Hyunh. He took the time to walk downstairs to the kitchen. There, Arnold opened the tap to pour himself a cup of water. He startled to see that it was now dark outside the window. A white, radiant moon was rising out the window. From within the living room down the hall, the grandfather clock was chiming.

"Wow," Arnold spoke out loud to the empty room, his undrunk glass of water still held in his hand. "I had no idea how late it is." Arnold paced up to bed and tucked himself in. He turned out the light to sleep.

In what seemed too soon, Arnold was on the school bus riding to school again. Gerald covered a long, satisfied morning yawn with his hand, then studied Arnold. "So, do ya wanna meet up after school and go to the arcade? I've got my allowance! And I've gotta say, these quarters are burnin' holes in my pockets to be used! I've got a few rounds of Space Bunny Invaders Aquapark in mind! So how about it? Does the arcade sound okay to you?"

"Ah, nah!" Arnold huffed lightly. "I can't Gerald. I've got chores to do."

"I thought you were going to do them yesterday," Gerald speculated.

"I didn't have time to get around to all of them," Arnold tried to explain. "I had to help Stinky. Before that I had to help Grandma. And then I had to help Mr. Hyunh." Arnold waved his hand around before clutching his hair in horror by one hand. His other hand was still holding a book. "Oh no! I forgot I have to help Mr. Green on Saturday!"

"Sounds difficult," observed Gerald as they descended from the bus and away the noise of its idling motor. "Maybe what you'all need is one of those… you know those…" Gerald sought to find the right word as they walked up the front steps to school.

"Schedules?" Lorenzo, one of their lesser-known classmates provided the word for him as he trotted by into school, the strap of his laptop bag in one hand and a mass of papers in the other. Arnold watched Lorenzo in dismay as he vanished down the entrance hall.

"I do not need a schedule, Gerald!" Arnold scoffed. He walked forward toward his locker and twiddled the dial to its first number. "I'm just… helping a lot of people lately. I'm sure everything will calm down in a few days."

"Right. Sure thing buddy." Gerald said with disbelief.

Afternoon rolled around. Arnold contented himself by playing his his favorite pigeons, Fester, Lester, and Chester up on the roof of the boarding house. But then he had clean out their food and water bowls, brush out the coop with a push broom, then reline the floor with newspaper. Face grit in determination, Arnold finished tying up a trashbag full of trash from the coop. Then he whipped off his gloves and the bandana he had been wearing over his hair as he had cleaned. Arnold walked to the edge of the rooftop and breathed in some of the clearer air.

"Ah!" Arnold celebrated. "Done at last!" He placed his hands on the edge of the building's roof and looked down to see who was ringing the front doorbell. The sound carried even to the second story roof, although the ring was faint.

"Gerald?" Arnold startled. "I'm on the roof. Wait for me to come down!" Arnold took the staircase entrance everyone else used this time. He didn't want bird mess on his bed.

"Oh. Hey Arnold!" Gerald greeted his friend when Arnold propped open the front door. Animals ran over Gerald's feet on their exit. The boy tried to pull one of his basketball sneakers out of the way to preserve it. But one of the animals broke off the crowd to latch its teeth on it. A gold-haired puppy wagged its tail but kept its jaw locked on Gerald's shoe. Arnold had to pick the small dog up to dislodge it from Gerald's sneaker.

"Er, sorry about that Gerald. It's one of the boarder's… I think." Arnold dropped the dog. It nimbly leapt away, then barked to his fellows to let them know it would catch up. Arnold paused to watch it sprint down the sidewalk. But Gerald's attention was firmly fixed on Arnold.

"It's getting late! But you still have time for our checkers night, don't you?"

"Hm, oh yeah. I do. Sorry Gerald. It must have slipped my mind. Come on in and I'll find the board." Gerald jogged up to Arnold's room. He sat down on the couch to wait for Arnold and his Grandpa to move a table, two chairs, and a checker board into the center of the room. They played. Then Gerald stayed on to read some of Arnold's comic books. Gerald dug a tin with jacks in it out of a corner of the room and began to play that. Then, flopping with his feet up, Arnold played a bit of his harmonica, softly, until Gerald began to yawn. Gerald stretched his arms up overhead.

"Ah, man I'm tired! It's late! See ya at school man!" Gerald did his friendship thumb shake with Arnold before departing with another yawn. He shut the door softly behind him.

"Beep, beep, beep!" the alarm clock in Arnold's room sounded out loudly. Arnold cracked open an eye to examine his numbers. Then, red-eyed, he pressed the snooze button and rolled over to go back to sleep. But then he heard the breakfast gong. Hair disheveled, Arnold forced his feet out of the bed. He made it downstairs with time.

"Hello, tadpole!" his Grandma greeted him. She set down a bowl of scrambled eggs on the dining room table. Today was one of the few times Ernie and Mr. Hyunh weren't at work. So they shared breakfast together in the larger dining area.

"Oh," Gertie said with afterthought. "I ran out of hashbrowns so I made some oatmeal with ham in it. It's in the kitchen. Would you please go get it for me, Arnold?" the woman smiled with her toothy grin.

"I'll go get it," Arnold said. Good-natured, he brought the bowl in from the kitchen and set it down on the table for the boarders to eat- even if it had odd ingredients floating in it. Arnold looked up. His grandma was serving coffee.

"Do want me to make some more scrambled eggs for you, Arnold?" Pookie smiled warmly. But Arnold frowned slightly.

"No thanks, Grandma. I'll get a bowl of cereal for myself. Then I guess I'd better get going."

"To where?" Oscar asked despite having a mouth full of food. A disgusted Mr. Huynh rubbed food splatters off of himself. Oscar closed his mouth but it was not much of an improvement. He hummed loudly while he chewed.

"I've got to help Mr. Green. I promised. Oh darn, I'd better hurry up before it's noon!" Arnold poured some of the oatmeal slop into a smaller bowl and shoveled it into his mouth. Despite its obvious distastefulness, Arnold swallowed then rushed over to the front door. He unlatched the door and hurried out of it just as Abner trotted down the hall with his leash in his mouth, wagging his curly pink tail. Abner looked at the green front door sadly as it closed in front of him.

The weekend came and went. Arnold waited in line for the water fountain behind Helga. His usually sharply pointed hair was floppy on one side and his shirt was half tucked in, half tucked out at the waistline. Arnold might of anticipated Helga to play a trick on him. But he did not anticipate her to whirl around on her heel and step aside of the water fountain to say, "Man, oh man, Arnold! You didn't get much rest on your weekend, did you? You look like the yard Eugene tore through." Arnold caught a bit of water in his lips, swallowed it, then wiped the beads of moisture from his lips.

"Yeah, it seems like that. But I had to help Mr. Green and it took a while. Then there other things that came up! I dunno... There's a lot to take care of."

"What are you now an official cat hoarder or something? With fifty litter boxes to change? Don't wear yourself out, Arnoldo," Helga advised.

"I won't," Arnold promised her, half-heartedly. But was it already too late to say he was not worn out? Arnold sat slumped at his desk. Mr. Simmons was reading poetry again.

"And now, class, look up at chalk board for today's poem to discuss. We will be taking a closer examination of 'The Journey' by Mary Oliver, an American poet. Arnold! Read the fourth line for us please!"

"Mend my life each voice cried," Arnold read from the board.

"That's right!" Mr. Simmons nodded. He used a wooden stick to point to a line lower down in the poem. "Now that theme of life needing to be saved not in a life-or-death kind of way, but as a 'lifetime' needing improvement reappears on the final line. That line is, 'determined to save the only life you could save.' I'd like for us, class to take a moment to reflect and jot down a journal response on that theme."

"What theme?" Harold asked, confused.

"The theme that one is ultimately responsible for the outcome of one's own life."

"Aw, that's too hard!" Harold sniffed.

"I concur!" said Stinky.

"Now class, class!" Mr. Simmons pled for order. "I just require one paragraph for each of you on what the journey of a lifetime means to you, and no one else. That's a minimum of three sentences, Harold!" said Mr. Simmons holding up the corresponding digits. "Not two."

"Aw! Some of the crowd grimaced. Arnold grimaced, too, but not because the assignment was three whole lines. He set his pencil scribbling.

"Okay class," Mr. Simmons declared at last. "Pencils down! I'm going to hand back the school assignment you handed in last week. Your essay on society and happiness."

Arnold received a sheet of paper in hand. He looked down to see a A- on it. Then he looked across the room to where Stinky Peterson sat. The boy was frowning sourly at his own page.

"Hey, Arnold!" Stinky complained from a few isles over. "I got a C!" the boy moped.

"Well, that's better than a D, isn't it?" Arnold asked Stinky. But the other boy continued to mope.

"Well, yeah it's better! But gawsh darn, with all your smarts, Arnold, I'd figure you could have at least got me a B or something!"

"Sheesh," Arnold said in his way much softer and more passively aggressive than Helga. He turned his shoulder slightly so that he might look longingly out the hall.

The school clock finally showed mercy to Arnold. He marched home, this time not bothering to take the bus. Gerald caught up and they walked past dozens of businesses before they got to the sidewalk directly in front of Green's Meats.

"Hold on a sec!" Arnold bid Gerald. He rushed inside to find his friend at the counter.

"How is the planning for the sale coming along?" Arnold asked. He noted with misgivings that the butcher was packing poster supplies away, not putting them up.

"Well, yeah I wanted to Arnold. But my son's coming to town so it's not a good time. Plus we've had some talk on this and it's all very complicated."

"You mean your son that's the vegetarian?" asked Arnold.

"That's the one," Mr. Green said, sadness laced within his voice. "Look, I'm sorry Arnold. I didn't mean to waste your time or nothing! I appreciate all you did for me helping me plan. But right now I can't go through with it. Maybe I'll have that sale another time, and when I do, you'll be the first to know!" Mr. Green promised.

"Oh. Well, thanks Mr. Green," Arnold said before walking out of the shop. His face looked tired and a little crest fallen.

"What were you talking about?" Gerald asked. Across his face filtered curiosity, then concern.

"Ah, things," said Arnold. "Something that didn't work out."

"Oh. That's too bad!" Gerald commented. The two continued on their way.

Arnold pushed open his broad, green front door. No sooner than he had peered inside then he was found be yet more people inviting him to do good deeds for them.

"Say, Arnold!" Mr. Hyunh said. "Can you tell Susie to collect her clothes in the laundry room? I need to use the dryer!"

"Oh, hey Arnold," said Ernie. "Wanna help me polish my ol' croquet set? I'm fixin' to have a big game against Phil!"

"Those are the wrong kinds of mallets, ya big ninny!" Phil complained as he stared down at Ernie's oversized mallets "Not regulation! We'll use mine! Arnold, come with me into the backyard and help me set up the course!"

"Kimba?" Grandma walked around the corner. "Is that you? The supply caravan's gone missing. Can you find them?"

"Uh, sorry everyone!" Arnold declared suddenly as he steped backwards through the open door. "I need to go buy some bread and milk."

"But we aren't out of bread and milk."

"We are now!" Arnold stated almost cheekily. "See ya!" He scurried away from the house to the great outdoors.

"Whew!" Arnold declared to himself as he sat on one of the many park benches in town. He swiveled his head to look around him. Uncertain how much time had passed, he got to his feet, then shuffled to the corner store. He found a carton of milk and a loaf of bread, then lay them down on the conveyer belt of the checkout counter behind some tomatoes. Arnold looked up to see who it might be in line in front of him. He startled at the sight. It was someone he knew but very unexpected.

"Dr. Bliss?" Arnold asked of the woman in the lavender dress. The raven-locked woman smiled down at Arnold. "You're the psychiatrist for our school district, right? I've never seen you… well, not at your profession before."

"Ah, yes!" Dr. Bliss responded. "Well, I do work a lot of hours sometimes. It can be tiring. But then, I break out and try to do something for myself to make up for it. Like today. I decided I would treat myself to a fresh, green salad. Only I didn't have enough tomatoes for a salad tonight. So here I am. And what brings you here, Arnold?"

"Oh. Well, I hate to say it. I guess everyone's driving me crazy asking me do things to help them out. I mean, I like helping. I do."

"Hm," Dr. Bliss mused. "It sounds to me like you need a little time to yourself."

"Maybe. It's just that its getting to be a little overwhelming. I mean, I am only one person you know! I can't do everything for everyone every day. It's just too tiring."

"I know just how you feel. But it's something I have to face, myself, Arnold. Let me ask you, Arnold. Do you help others in order to be a good person, or are you a good person who helps others? There's a difference."

"There is?" Arnold puzzled.

"There is, Arnold," said Dr. Bliss. "There absolutely is. After all, these tomatoes aren't going to pay for themselves. I get paid for helping others. I like helping others, Arnold. But sometimes the one person who needs the most care is oneself. It's too easy to overlook one's own needs when things are busy. So it's important that I take time out from helping others to share that love and attention with myself. The ways I might accomplish this goal might be complex, or they might be simple like a buying a hair cut and a fresh salad for myself."

"Hm. Well thank you for the advice, Dr. Bliss," said Arnold.

"Ah, well it's simply advice from one neighbor to another," the tall woman said. "But the next time you want advice, you'll have to pay for an appointment." She winked.

"Ah," said Arnold. "I understand, I think. Thanks."

Arnold returned home. He paused long enough to help his Grandpa set up croquet hoops in the backyard. He checked the laundry room to make sure things had sorted themselves out there. Susie was folding her laundry while Mr. Hyunh waited for her to finish. Grandma was making some dinner and behaving partially normal.

Arnold walked up to his room. As he entered it and snapped the door shut behind him, he heard the telephone ring. Arnold plucked up the phone from its base, then pressed it to his ear. "Hello?" he spoke into the receiver.

"Hi," said a familiar voice on the other end. "This is Stinky, I wanted to ask, Arnold, if ya would help me again on our next assignment. You know, the one we all gots to turn in two days hence. Can we meet somewhere tomorrow to write it?"

"Ah, no. Sorry Stinky. I have something planned tomorrow."

"Huh? What's that? Since when?"

"Since right now. See you at school, Stinky," Arnold grumbled out. He hung up the phone. Then with equal swiftness, Arnold pulled a calendar out and scribbled the words, "day off" on it. Then he tucked himself in bed, pulled out the covers, and used his remote to turn out the lights so he might sleep.

The next afternoon came swiftly. Arnold decided to celebrate his "day off" to himself by going to the park. The weather was perfect, so he took his Grandma's offer up on packing a woven lattice basket with a red checkered tablecloth, bottled soda, and a tall stack of sandwiches. Arnold was sure to make the sandwiches himself while his Grandma packed the basket. Then he was off to enjoy the sunshine.

Arnold set the basket down beneath the big tree Helga had fallen down from, once. He could see older people picnicking out of the corner of his eye, but there there was still enough distance and a park bench between them so he had a bit of privacy. Arnold spread the red, checkered cloth out on the grass. Then he sat down, his back against his tree, and put his walkman into his ears. That, too, had been in the picnic basket. Arnold fished through the basket for a large sandwich and prepared to enjoy it. But there was just something bugging him. Arnold struggled to figure out what. Then he pushed the headphones off his ears and whirled round the tree trunk to see Helga lurking on the other side. She dropped a bedraggled flower from her hand as she was caught spying by her crush.

"Huh?" Helga uttered with confusion. Then she crossed her arms in front of herself defensively. "Whattdaya want?"

"Helga come here!" Arnold invited with a smirk. "I need your help with something."

"Huh? What gives? What's with all the la-de-da, 'I'm on vacation' all of a sudden? I'll just say it, Arnold. You're acting weird."

"Not weird. I'm just taking people's advice to take it easy for a while. So since you're here, I'd like you to do something for me!" grinned Arnold.

"Huh? What's that?" Helga said, lost in her suspicion.

"Reach into that picnic basket and get a Yahoo soda for me, please. Oh, be sure to open it for me!" Arnold lay back against the ground in a flop. He made conducting symbols above his head with either hand, a broad smile upon his face.

"What am I, a professional bottle opener or somethin'?" Helga snapped as she thrust a now capless soda bottle into Arnold's hand. Arnold gave his foot a spirited wiggle from where it sat crossed just above his knee.

"Yup!" Arnold said laying back against the picnic blanket as he soaked in the summer warmth.

"Pfft! I knew there was a little bit of a selfish in ya somewhere, Mr.-pretend-to-be-saint, Arnoldo." Helga glowered at her friend. "Well, if that's all you want from me, I guess I'll be going."

"Or you can stay and sit with me for a while," said Arnold sitting up suddenly. An awkward expression crossed his face. Helga gaped, her feet frozen to the ground.

"Oh, well! I..." Helga turned her head around, fearful of prying eyes. When next she spoke, it was with a wistful yet desperate tone. "Rhonda and I would love to sit with you!" Helga blurted out. She snatched the girl whom was powerwalking down the sidewalk alongside them and sat her down on the blanket below the tree. "Look, Rhonda, Arnold has sandwiches!"

"Oooh, can I have sandwiches, too?" Harold exclaimed, appearing out of nowhere. Eugene waved to them in the distance before he became entangled in his own kite string. Maybe he'd be invited to their picnic, too! Radish boy, formerly chocolate boy, and Sheena were invited, when found, so soon the little picnic blanket became crowded. Helga hid behind the crowd of friends with a soft, loving sigh.

"A day like today is the perfect time for relaxing!" Rhonda remarked as she chewed on a sandwich. "We all should do this more often."

"Well, maybe if I have time for it," Arnold replied to his friend seated next to him. Rhonda closed her eyes and lifted her chin in a sniff.

"Oh, Arnold, you simply HAVE to make time for it. It's okay for you to have told Stinky 'no'. After all, making sure he passes gradeschool is Mr. Simmon's job, not yours. You simply have the habit of taking too much on yourself! But thank you for all the times you have helped me."

"Yeah, and you've helped me loads!" said Harold. "Mostly by giving me these sandwiches!" Harold busied himself by emptying out the picnic basket. He ate from two sandwiches- one in each hand.

"Yeah, Arnold!" said Eugene who had come for the companionship rather than the sandwiches. "You're a great friend. I should tell you that more often."

"You do tell him, genius," scoffed Helga as she leant her elbow on top of Eugene's head. The boy flustered under the pressure of her arm on his head with its spindle-like neck.

"Thanks, guys," said Arnold.

"Well, its as the old proverb goes!" Sheena said lifting up her hands as if in prayer as she recited words to match the peace symbol on her T-shirt. "Plant kindness and gather love."

"Isn't that a little too campy?" Helga asked, her eyebrow lifted at Sheena. Eugene still struggled to get out from under Helga's arm.

"Nah-ah!" Sheena shook her head firmly. Arnold recentered the headphones to his walkman around his neck. He smiled, then opened a second Yahoo soda for himself. He had the company of his friends to enjoy and plenty of moving scenery to look at- kids other than himself and his friends were enjoying the park, too, on this pleasant sunny day. Arnold settled himself back to enjoy it thoroughly. The end.

 **I could not seem to write a story request featuring Mr. Green without setting up for it first, so after this story, I plan to follow it up with another fanfic called, "That Son of Mine." This one will be about Mr. Green's visit from his son and whether or not they can recouncil some of their differences. But mostly, it will be about Mr. Green's struggle to keep his business strong in a modernized world.**


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